


The one with the cactus-bush hybrid Christmas tree

by neela



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Friendship, Gen, Implied Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neela/pseuds/neela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Christmas is celebrated Pegasus-style.</p><p>Written for the SGA Secret Santa challenge on LJ.<br/>Present for rabid fan.</p><p>Thank you to imwithrebel for beta-reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one with the cactus-bush hybrid Christmas tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rabidfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidfan/gifts).



“You’re doing it wrong.”  
  
In the midst of fastening the handcrafted angel on a branch, John rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Shut up, it’s fine.”  
  
“That’s  _not_  what a Christmas tree should look like.” Rodney pointed at the ‘tree’ in front of John, which was more likely to be categorised as a stunted bush-cactus hybrid than a Pegasus-style coniferous evergreen.  
  
“It’s green and it’s got ornaments. What more could you want?” Reaching into the container on his bed, John pulled put another handcrafted figurine, this time of what he could only assume was a deity of some sort. He’d picked it up on a farmer’s market on M65-PL8 last year. For all he knew, it could be Lucius Lavin.  
  
“It’s  _poisonous_ , for starters.” Rodney sat down heavily on the edge of John’s bed, causing the container to jump at the sudden weight. The contents rattled, but the scientist didn’t seem to notice. He looked too sullen for that.   
  
“Only if you prick your precious little fingertip, Sleeping Beauty, and even then you’ll only get a minor rash that a bit of antihistamines can clear up in a jiffy.” With a bit of a huff, John picked up the container and put it on his desk instead, thinking it’d be safer there.   
  
Slapping his forehead with an exaggerated motion, Rodney rolled his eyes. “Oh, excuse me for thinking of health and safety. I forgot there’s nothing like celebrating Christmas from an infirmary bed.”  
  
The sardonic look he gave John held an edge that made John shift unconsciously on his feet.  
  
“At least you’d get a second helping of Jell-O,” he tried, smirking.   
  
Rodney wasn’t amused; he crossed his arms tightly and huffed, “I don’t know why I even bother.”   
  
John’s voice softened. “Hey, if you wanna make yourself useful, go fetch that red…uh…thingy over there.”  
  
Turning in the direction John indicated, Rodney leaned over the side of the bed and came back up with a piece of red textile dangling from his fingertips. His nose crinkled as he perused it dubiously. “What, this? It’s an old sock. What on Earth would you want this for? Can’t even hold the candy.” To illustrate, Rodney poked his finger through one of the many holes.   
  
John rolled his eyes. “Just give it here.”   
  
Still looking dubious, Rodney nevertheless handed him the sock and John proceeded to tear it up into smaller strips. Then he arranged them onto the bush-cactus hybrid as if they were garlands, and stepped back with a critical stare.   
  
“Hmm… Something’s missing.”  
  
“That’s a terrible excuse for a tree,” Rodney deadpanned.   
  
John gave him an annoyed glare. “Well, you should’ve thought of that when you turned down Christmas leave for some quality time on Atlantis.” Pondering the situation for a moment, he went to his footlocker and rifled through it. When he spotted what he was searching for, John grinned. “Aha. This’ll do.”   
  
“What?” Rodney angled his head, trying to see. “What is it?”  
  
John didn’t say, choosing instead to head back to his ‘tree’ and fasten the small LED headlight on the topmost branch. Satisfied, he stepped back and admired his work. “All right. Bet the little guy’s gonna love this.”  
  
Rodney snorted. “Oh yeah, Torren’s gonna have a blast.”   
  
John ignored him. He’d been looking forward to this day and nothing Rodney said would ruin that.   
  
Getting to his feet, Rodney sighed. “Are you done? I’m hungry.”  
  
“You’re always hungry, and we haven’t put the presents beneath the tree yet.” John rolled his eyes  _again_ , and went off to a corner of his quarters to find the stack of presents he’d put there. Some of them were quite big, requiring some delicate balancing as he retraced his steps and started putting the presents beneath the ‘tree’.   
  
When he spotted the tiny bag in Rodney’s hands, John chuckled.   
  
“What?”   
  
“You’re such a cheapskate.” To make a point, John put down his largest box next to the two-foot tree; they were nearly the same height.   
  
“I’ll have you know, these cost a fortune.” Extracting three rectangular gifts from the bag, Rodney waved them in the air. John could see a flash of the designer brand stamped on the side of the store-bought wrapping. Although intrigued, he decided to let it go.   
  
“Right.” This time, he rolled his eyes with a smile. As they’d both finished arranging the presents, John surveyed the rest of his quarters. “Okay, tree decorated, presents ready, room cleared… Sure, we can eat now.”  
  
“Hallelujah.” Dropping the now empty bag unceremoniously on John’s bed, Rodney strode towards the door and had left before John could say ‘let’s eat’.   
  
John shook his head, more amused than annoyed, and followed at a much slower pace. Before leaving, though, he cast one more glance over his shoulder at his quarters, picturing the Christmas celebration they’d all have later on. It might not be an Earth-style Christmas, but that suited John just fine.   
  


* * *

  
Although Rodney was nowhere in sight when John finally reached the mess hall level, he  _did_  run into Ronon coming from a different hallway. “Hey there, big guy. Ready for some Christmas fun?”   
  
Ronon snorted. “Ready for the drinks.”  
  
“When aren’t you?” John smirked. “Hope you’ve learned since last year, though. Stay off the eggnog.”   
It’d been the only time John had seen Ronon drive the porcelain bus. For some reason, eggnog just didn’t agree with the Satedan. Beer, on the other hand…  
  
“Don’t worry,” John said as they started closing in on the mess hall and were surrounded by other people, “I’ve stashed a keg of Duff’s finest back in my room.”   
  
“Good.”   
  
Around them, the hallway was quickly getting crowded and John had to stand on the tip of his toes to spot Teyla in the distance. As they criss-crossed the groups of people either standing talking or walking together to the mess hall, John allowed himself a smile in greeting to those who noticed him. He liked that they’d all left their uniforms in their quarters today, instead opting for casual wear; things were usually too formal and holidays weren’t supposed to be that.  
  
As they caught up to Rodney and then closed in on Teyla and Torren, John noticed that people were crowding in front of the mess hall entrance for some reason, blocking it from his view.   
  
“Hey,” he greeted her, “what’s happening?”   
  
Balancing Torren on her hip, Teyla gestured ahead towards the mess hall. “It has been closed off, but no one has told us why yet.”  
  
“We still get lunch, right?” Stretching his head to get a better look, Rodney looked worried.   
  
Frowning, John rolled to the tip of his feet in order to see above the heads of those in front of them, but all he saw was a sea of people.   
  
Next to him, Ronon sniffed the air. “Nothing’s burning.”   
  
“Maybe they wish to surprise us,” Teyla suggested, rocking Torren in her arms; he’d begun to fidget in an attempt to slip down to the floor.  
  
“Oh, I know.” Rodney snapped his fingers like he did whenever he had a brilliant idea. This one, however, was laced with a strong undertone of condescension. “Maybe they’re setting up an actual Christmas tree there.”   
  
For the fifth or sixth time in an hour, John rolled his eyes. “ _Rodney,_ will you lay it  _off_ , already? It’s —“   
  
_Crack! Smash! Thud, thud, thud! Crash!_  
  
“Stop the damn birds!”  
  
_Squawks!_  
  
Suddenly, the crowd began to cry out in startled shock, pushing back and forth as something barrelled through them. John was jostled to the side and turned back just in time to see two  _very real_  turkeys tearing past him, quickly followed by several of the kitchen staff that tried to lunge after them.  
  
“Uh…” John blinked. “Was that  _dinner_?”   
  
“I didn’t even know we  _had_  turkeys,” Rodney said, stunned.  
  
“Must’ve been shipped in on the last call from Earth,” John said, joining the rest of the crowd in staring after the wild turkey hunt that’d now broken free of the crowd.   
  
Out in open space, the two turkeys flapped their wings and made as if to fly, but one of them was suddenly manhandled by one of the kitchen staff.   
  
“That’s the second time today!” the man yelled out, struggling to keep the turkey under control and needing the help of his colleague. That, however, left the second turkey to roam free. “Could someone please stop it?”  
  
No one reacted. The shock was probably still too great.   
  
John and Ronon’s eyes met and they looked back at Teyla, who held up Torren to signal she was sitting this one out. Instead, they turned to Rodney…who was staring auspiciously in the opposite direction.  
  
John sighed. “Come on, Chewie.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Later that night, Rodney slumped back in his chair with a loud moan, arms hanging at his sides. “Oh man, I’m stuffed. Couldn’t eat a single piece more.”   
  
“You’ve had  _four._ ” John eyed the empty pie form in front of Rodney, smirking.   
  
“Hello? Hypoglycaemia?” Huffing slightly, Rodney moaned again, though this time in contentment.   
  
Like clockwork, John rolled his eyes and looked down at Torren, who was sitting on his lap. “Don’t become your Uncle Rodney. He’s a bad influence.” To the side, Ronon chugged down his fourth glass of beer and swiftly proceeded to refill it from the keg. John winced. “You probably shouldn’t take a page out of Uncle Ronon’s book either.”   
  
The door to John’s quarters opened, revealing Teyla and the stack of presents in her arms. Torren immediately began to bounce excitedly in John’s lap and he grinned as Teyla passed them to put the presents beneath the bush-cactus hybrid Christmas tree, which John had to admit  _did_ look  _very_ odd.   
  
Having to hold Torren back so he didn’t fall to the floor, John gave Teyla an amused smirk. “Guess someone’s ready for his presents.”   
  
“It’s not morning yet,” Rodney said, confused.  
  
“So?” John got to his feet. “Technically, it’s not December 24th either. Live a little, Rodney.”   
  
Rodney held his palms up. “All right, all right…”   
  
Crouching down next to the pile of presents, John found one with Torren’s name on it and gave it to the kid. He began tearing at the wrapping at once, babbling excitedly in that cutesy way children possessed.   
  
As John carried Torren back to their seat, Ronon perked up and glared at him. “Where’s mine?”  
  
John arched an eyebrow. “Really? I thought it’d be Rodney who’d be the impatient one.”  
  
Ronon just shrugged and rose to his feet, indicating Teyla take his seat. Then he crossed the room and ruffled through the pile of presents, managing to find one for him and another for each of them. As he handed them off, John wondered if he should make some quip about Ronon trying out for Santa next year, but refrained as the Satedan flung himself down on the ground to unwrap his present. It was the most excited John had seen Ronon in a while; he enjoyed the sight.   
  
John noticed that the present he’d gotten was from Rodney, which made him smile and put it aside for the moment. Torren was making a mess of his all over John’s lap, and he had to make sure the kid didn’t fall down in the process.   
  
“This is beautiful, John. Thank you.” Holding up a colourful Athosian-style shawl John had had made for her, Teyla smiled widely. She pulled it around her shoulders, feeling the fabric with her fingertips.   
  
The sight made John smile, but any comment was cut short as Torren finally tore off the last of the wrapping and pulled a teddy bear into his hands. After a moment of looking at it, though, he unceremoniously dropped it to the ground and picked up the colourful wrapping instead.   
  
John sighed. Kids, huh.   
  
He looked around at the others. On the floor, Ronon was testing the strength of a leather holster he’d gotten from Teyla. In the armchair, Rodney stared at a cylindrical object with a frown.   
  
“Oh. Thanks. I think.” Rodney’s frown deepened. “ _What_  exactly is this?”  
  
Ronon’s response was matter-of-fact. “A grenade.”   
  
John coughed. Teyla snorted. Rodney…froze.   
  
“Oh-kay…” With sudden extra care, Rodney held the object as far away from him as he could. He made as if to put it down on the ground, but John quickly interceded.   
  
“ _Rodney_ , there’s kids here. The walking, grabbing and  _throwing_  kind.” To emphasise, he held Torren closer to his chest.   
  
“Oh. Of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll just go put it, uh, somewhere else.” Still treating the object as if it were to blow any second, Rodney rose to his feet and proceeded to leave John’s quarters.   
  
After he’d gone, John turned to Ronon. “You couldn’t just have gotten him a sweater?”  
  
Ronon grinned. “Not as fun.”   
  
John’s lips twitched involuntarily. Logically, he knew Ronon wouldn’t give Rodney anything  _too_  dangerous, and a small part of him was perhaps perversely satisfied with the wide-eyed look Rodney had been wearing. He considered it payback for all those snide comments today about his Christmas tree.   
  
By the time Rodney returned, the rest of them had opened up a few more presents and John and Ronon were busily regaling Teyla with details of the Turkey Hunt op they’d run earlier that day. As Rodney fell heavily into his chair with a loud groan, they paused.  
  
“Got lost, McKay?” Ronon asked, smirking, and John struggled to conceal his.   
  
“Ha ha. Funny. I had to walk all the way down to the lab, you know.”  
  
“Could’ve just taken it to the armoury on the level below,” John teased.   
  
Another loud groan. “Well  _thank you_ for sharing that bit of crucial information  _before_ I went half across the city with a fricking  _grenade_ in my hands.” Rodney rolled his eyes and seemed beset upon sulking the rest of the night before he noticed his present to John was still untouched. His expression almost fell. “Aren’t you gonna open yours?”   
  
“Here, I’ll take him,” Teyla said as she came over to pick up Torren.   
  
An odd sense of nervousness filled John with the sudden change in Rodney’s mood. Most of the time, he was hyper-aware of it and clearly Rodney was nervous about this gift; so nervous, in fact, that he forgot all about his bruised ego in the blink of an eye.   
  
Twirling the designer-brand box between his fingertips, John pulled the string away and opened it up.   
  
It was a watch. Just a normal one when you first looked at it, but when John saw the inscription on the back…  
  
“Uh, thanks, Rodney.” He didn’t quite know what to say. Suddenly, Ronon and Teyla’s presence seemed overwhelming.   
  
“You like it?” Rodney asked nervously.  
  
John smirked slightly, shrugging off the tension in his neck. “Yeah, I like it.”   
  
Rodney nearly sagged it relief, a sign that seemed so obvious that John had to clear his throat and cast a furtive glance at the others. Both Ronon and Teyla looked as if they were deeply immersed in their gifts…which probably meant they weren’t.   
  
“All right,” John said with a slightly strained smile. “More presents, anyone?”   
  


* * *

  
  
The keg was empty, the garbage was cleared, the plates and utensils had been returned to the mess hall, and Johnny Cash was set low on his audio system. Outside the window, the moon shone brightly on the ocean surrounding Atlantis, illuminating the city with an almost ethereal glow.  
  
The others had already gone to bed, leaving John alone in his quarters to ponder the inscription at the back of Rodney’s gift. To any snooping eyes, it wouldn’t seem so noteworthy, but the words held a special meaning to him. Rodney knew that.   
John smiled, thinking – like he often did – that Rodney wasn’t so annoying after all.   
  
As if that thought had summoned him, the door chimed and opened to let in a slightly nervous Rodney. Grinning, John got up from the bed and approached him.   
  
“You really liked it?” Rodney asked, shifting on his feet. “It wasn’t…too obvious?”   
  
“Rodney, I think they already know…and I don’t think they care. Different ideas in Pegasus, you know.” John smiled. “Come on. I was just gonna light up the Christmas tree.”  
  
They walked over to the poisonous bush-cactus hybrid, and John reached behind it to flip the switch there. With sudden brightness, the LED lights John had brought with him from Earth a couple of years ago lit up the room. To top it off, John switched on the LED headlight that constituted the star and watched the display with a smirk.   
  
“I stand corrected,” Rodney said. “That’s the ugliest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen.” John punched him in the arm. “Ow!”  
  
“Thanks for ruining the mood.”  
  
“Oh, come on.  _Some_ part of you have to agree that that is the ugliest—“  
  
John silenced him the way he liked best. No words were necessary.   
  
But he did it with a smile. 


End file.
